


Love is Nothing to Be Afraid Of

by sailorstkwrning



Category: Dallas Stars - Fandom, Hockey RPF
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:57:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorstkwrning/pseuds/sailorstkwrning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aliens give everyone silly superpowers which leads to kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is Nothing to Be Afraid Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ailelie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/gifts).



> fill for this prompt: For some reason, some people suddenly get superpowers. Like one thing per person. But, after someone sends a puck through the wall, it is decided that powers aren't allowed in hockey (or other sports). So player (Seguin?) has to keep his recently developed power secret. Not like it helps his game anyway. No strength, precog, telekinesis, etc. He can just tell who is in love with whom. Not even who is a good match or crushing so he could cupid it up. Just who already is truly in love w/ someone. - from @ailelie
> 
> I tagged this Aliens Made Them Do It because . . . that is kind of what happens HOWEVER: there is no dub-con! All the smooching is fully consensual!
> 
> Title from _Night Changes_.
> 
> Unbeta'd because I'm impatient.

The aliens arrive on a Tuesday.

Quietly, though, so nobody knows until Wednesday. 

On Thursday, Tyler is stretched out next to Jamie on Jamie’s hotel bed, watching Sam Donaldson tour their ship, when a glass of water floats out of the bathroom and settles on Jamie’s stomach.

They both stare at it.

“The fuck,” Tyler says.

The glass does a little bunnyhop up to Jamie’s sternum.

Tyler and Jamie both grab for it at the same time, but Jamie wins. 

“I was thirsty,” Jamie says, wide-eyed but somehow calm. Tyler sees a flash of red in his hair but it’s gone before he can identify it. “I was thinking about getting up for a glass of water but I wanted to see the transporter room.”

“Get me a beer,” Tyler says, half challenge, half plea.

Jamie looks at the mini fridge.

Nothing happens.

He frowns and narrows his eyes. 

Nothing.

Tyler gets up and opens the door, in case that might help.

Jamie straight-up scowls at the fridge and the lone beer inside - Heineken, what the fuck, Saint Louis - doesn’t even twitch.

“Maybe it only works on water?” Tyler offers. “Try passing to me.”

Jamie obediently lets go of the glass. It remains perched on his sternum. The red thing in his hair reappears for a second but Tyler still can’t tell what it is.

“Huh,” Tyler says, closing the fridge and clambering back on the bed. “Wait, _is_ that water?”

Jamie picks the glass up and sniffs the water, then takes a cautious sip.

“It’s water,” he reports, just as the connecting door pops open and Jordie comes through, Daddy on his heels.

Jordie has one hand clenched into a fist and pressed against his chest. Daddy looks flushed and sweaty.

“What’s up?” Tyler says, and Jordie stretches out his arm and opens his fist and there is a tiny translucent Dills standing there.

He seems to be wearing his pajamas.

Tyler opens his mouth and discovers he has nothing to say.

Dills puts his tiny hands on his tiny hips. Tyler can see his mouth moving but he can’t hear him.

They all turn and look at Daddy. He gives them a cautious half-smile and then his beard is suddenly an inch longer than it was before.

Thirty seconds after that, all of their phones start buzzing. Tyler is only able to glance down long enough to see there are messages from Brownie, his sisters, his mom, and, interestingly, Giroux, before Jamie shifts into Captain Mode and sends them all off to round up the team for a meeting.

**

Ten minutes later, Tyler is standing in front of a scowling Sharpy, who is on the phone. 

He also has a large heart floating over his head.

“Hold on, honey,” Sharpy says into the phone, then gives Tyler some very pointed arched eyebrows.

“Team meeting,” Tyler says, mostly studying the heart. 

It’s deep red and looks like a worn velvety pillow. There are a couple of places on the front and sides where it looks like somebody has clumsily sewn on patches.

“About what?” Sharpy says, and Tyler wishes he had thought to grab Jordie or Daddy, because this is would be so much easier if he could just get one of them to demonstrate.

“The, uh, weird stuff,” Tyler tries. “Like the, ah, heart above your head?”

Sharpy’s expression shifts several times before settling on resigned concern. He moves the phone back to his mouth. “I’ll call you back in second, baby.”

“I’m not tripping,” Tyler says, quickly, though now the heart has disappeared and he is wondering if maybe it _was_ a stress-induced hallucination.

Sharpy gives him a very dubious look.

“Fuck you, I’m _not_ ,” Tyler says, though he kind of wishes he did have some drugs to blame for the weirdness.

Sharpy shifts his weight and moves one foot and there is something that looks like glitter where his right foot used to be. It’s green, shot through with streaks of red.

For a moment, Tyler is sad the heart isn’t Sharpy’s new superpower.

“Is that _glitter?_ ” Tyler asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to that question. 

Sharpy twists his foot up to get a better look at it. They can both see it is pink and clean. Sharpy glances at Tyler, then takes a couple of steps toward the bathroom.

All of them sparkle, even in the terrible hotel room lighting.

Sharpy follows Tyler downstairs with no further complaint.

**  
On Friday afternoon, Tyler spends an afternoon at a signing scrawling his name on random items while being distracted by the number and variety of hearts floating over people’s heads. 

After the fourth time he almost signs the table - in his defense the hearts floating over the couple shly proffering game programs were _made of hockey sticks_ \- Jamie calls a time-out and gives him a very captain-y look.

There is still something red buried in his hair. Tyler has some suspicions he would like to investigate but has not yet found the right time.

“I’m fine,” Tyler says. “It’s just - a lot.”

Jamie still looks concerned.

“I mean it’s good, right, that all these people love each other,” Tyler offers. “Good energy for us.”

Jamie’s eyes widen further, which Tyler did not think was possible. “ _That’s_ what you see? Who they love?”

“Uh, kind of, yeah,” Tyler says, slowly. It had taken him a while to work it out but he was pretty sure he had explained.

“Kind of,” Jamie repeats, slowly.

“Not, like, crushes, or anything. Just people who are, like, already married, or whatever,” Tyler says.

Jamie looks relieved, which is weird. The line is getting super backed up, though, so Tyler lets it go.

**

On Friday night, Shea Weber tries to pass to James Neal in warm-ups and instead punches a hole in the boards at Bridgestone Arena.

The game is cancelled.

**

On Saturday morning, Department of Player Safety announces that in-game use of superpowers will result in an automatic 10 game suspension, which everyone agrees is fair.

**

On Sunday, Tyler and Jamie go grocery shopping.

It’s kind of asking for trouble, because even in Dallas, when they go out together they get recognized.

But not _that_ much.

Tyler will sign a few autographs if it means having someone who will listen to his running commentary about the hearts. Jamie grumbles a little bit, but he doesn’t mean it, Tyler can tell.

They’re in the produce section, studying the strawberries, when Tyler feels a tug on his shirt. 

When he looks down there is a small girl, not more than five, gazing up at him. She is wearing his jersey and there is a giant pink puffy heart floating above her head.

Tyler smiles at her, and crouches down to say hello, and accept a slightly sticky hug. She produces a much-loved Victor E. Green coloring page, which Tyler obediently signs.

When he turns to point her towards Jamie - and also look around for her parents - he finds them talking to Jamie. 

All three of them have hearts floating above their heads.

Her parents’ look solid and sturdy and bright, like rodeo barrels with a new coat of paint.

Jamie’s seems to be pucks arranged in a heart shape, and it disappears into his hair as soon as he realizes Tyler is looking at him.

Tyler makes an effort to keep his expression pleasant and neutral - thank you, media training - and somehow gets through the rest of the encounter without saying anything super dumb.

**

Tyler puts the groceries away, then beats a retreat to the backyard, to play an idle game of fetch with his dogs, and to think.

Jamie stays inside, rattling around the kitchen. Marshall and Cash go in every once in awhile to check on him.

The sun is just starting to set when Jamie comes out. He’s barefoot, wearing basketball shorts and a ratty Rockets t-shirt. He’s carrying a hockey stick and a tennis ball. Tyler can see the fuzzy outlines of the puck-heart peeking out of the greasy snarl of his hair.

He is a disaster and Tyler would not trade being best bros with him for anyone else in the world, not even Justin Bieber.

“I put the chicken in,” Jamie says, dropping the tennis ball on the grass. 

“Awesome,” Tyler says, resting a hand on Marshall’s head. 

He still doesn’t know what to do.

He has to tell Jamie he can see the heart, even though he’s trying to hide it. He just doesn’t know what to say _after_ that. The more he thinks about it the more his chest hurts.

Jamie thwacks the tennis ball with the stick, sending the ball rolling across the yard. Cash bounds after it.

Tyler points his toes and does a couple of leg lifts, and very deliberately pushes the whole heart issue out of his mind. 

**

A week goes by. The are at home for a little bit, and then away. Tyler does his best to do what he always does, to keep things normal and not worry about hearts, hidden or otherwise. By the end of the week, and a dumb loss to the fucking _Flyers_ , of all teams, Jamie is giving him measuring Concerned Captain looks. 

Tyler would really like to rest his head on Jamie’s shoulder and be hugged but he feels weird about it now.

So instead Tyler puts his gameday suit back on slowly - on top of everything else his knee is sore - and silently practices reassuring platitudes. _I’m fine. Just a little tired. Time zones are such bullshit, right?_

“Hey, Seggy, Cap wants to see you in the trainers’ room,” Fidds says, on the way to his still.

Tyler cocks an eyebrow at him, but he goes. He takes all of two steps inside - enough to notice Jamie’s in the room alone, which is weird - when the door shuts suddenly behind him, and the lock clicks noisily.

“The fuck,” Jamie says frowning and standing up.

“I can’t take the sad country songs any more,” Fidds says, from the other side of the door. “Or the fucking Justin Bieber.”

Jamie flushes pink. Tyler opens his mouth and closes it again. He feels like he should apologize but doesn’t really want to, since it isn’t technically _his_ fault Fidds’ brain got turned into a radio programmed by everyone around him.

“You can come out when you fix your shit,” Fidds says.

Jamie narrows his eyes and rattles the door. “How are you -”

“I’ve seen the heart above your head,” Tyler blurts out. “It’s a bunch of pucks.”

Jamie freezes.

Tyler swallows hard. He looks at down at his shoes, which are no help, and then at the trainer’s counter. Fidds obviously hustled the trainers out, the bandages are all over the place and someone left a brand-new full length mirror propped up near the sink. 

Looking at his own freaked out face just makes him feel even more freaked out, so it takes, like, an extra thirty seconds for him to see the heart floating above his own head.

Then he starts laughing, because it’s a net.

Jamie finally turns around. He looks lost. Tyler wants to hug him.

“Mine is a net,” Tyler explains, taking a cautious step towards Jamie.

When Jamie doesn’t punch him, he takes another, and another until he’s close enough to grab Jamie’s hand and tug him towards the mirror.

They both look pale and exhausted. The puck heart is wavering uncertainly above Jamie’s wet hair. 

Tyler takes a deep steadying breath - he feels like he’s done too many shots too fast - and squeezes Jamie’s hand gently. “Wide-open net, Chubbs.”

Jamie drops Tyler’s hand, and grabs his hip to pull him closer. Tyler makes a small, startled noise and Jamie freezes again, but only briefly. Then he cups one hand around Tyler’s chin and looks him in the eye. 

Tyler’s heart is pounding. Everything is too much and too close. He meets Jamie’s gaze, and nods, though, because the hearts have never been wrong. 

Jamie leans down and kisses him.

It feels good. Weird, but good. Jamie isn’t that much taller than him but Tyler isn’t used to having to tilt his head up to kiss people. Or being the one gathered in against a broad male body. He breaks away and sags against Jamie. 

Jamie goes very still.

Tyler shifts so he can meet Jamie’s gaze in the mirror without having to pull away from him. 

Above them, the puck heart is nestled inside the net-heart.

“Goal!” Tyler says, laughing a little, and raising one arm to pump his fist.

That gets him a smile, at least.

“Shania Twain? Really, Chubbs, pick something recorded this century,” Fidds calls from outside, which makes them both laugh.

Tyler turns and presses his face into Jamie’s shoulder and very deliberately thinks about One Direction until Fidds caves and opens the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Still on [Tumblr](http://sailorstkwrning.tumblr.com/tagged/prompt-me)!


End file.
